In which I am covered in blood

Okay, so the prep room that I am using belongs to a funeral home that already has a full staff. There are two older embalmers, both almost 70 (one of whom is retiring next month), and both male. They have a problem with women, from what I have gathered, specifically ones in power (their boss) and ones that have a man's job (me). The one that is retiring has been nice to me so far, but the other one, Ralph, seems life somewhat of an asshat. His embalming is pretty poor also. And he doesn't make arrangements with families any longer. He is just generally bothersome (and I don't even have to work with him that often).

There is one redeeming embalmer on staff however, and luckily for me he doesn't have issues with women in his prep room. He is a super-young kid (25), just finished his apprenticeship like, this summer, and has worked for the funeral home for almost two years. Barb really likes him, he does most of the work in that place, and he's been the most helpful to me so far (although, I am comparing him to two men that I doubt will ever be of much use to me).

So, when I first started he was given the task of showing me the embalming room and supplies in it that I would need to use, and I let him know that I wasn't familiar with the type of embalming machine they had, so if he was going to embalm I wanted to be there, to watch him. He said that he would let me know, and last week there was a case to be embalmed, so I went over to help him out. We got everything ready, and began injecting, and I told him that I usually don't open the vein right away to drain the blood. Jane never did, and I got used to doing it that way (is it possible to be superstitious about embalming because I feel like cases turn out better when I do that...). Okay, I go to cut the vein open, and I'm standing at this man's head (the deceased, not my coworker, lol), and as I do so his blood goes everywhere. I mean EVERYWHERE. There is blood all over my smock, on my shoes, on my legs, on my shirt, all over the floor, everyfuckingwhere. The kid turns off the machine, and I just kind of stand there. I mean, wtf? I. was. covered. (okay, I might be exaggerating, but it really was everywhere) So, I go over to a  table and take off my smock and shirt (keep it glean, guys, I had a tank on underneath), put on a clean smock and wipe off my shoes and legs, and wash my arms. The kid cleans up the floor, and probably walls too, and after a few minutes we continue embalming.

Needless to say, I'm grateful that the old guys weren't in the room.